


Divine Intervention

by PatPrecieux



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, M/M, Season/Series 01, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 10:25:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10942578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: James is bereft. It's time for an intervention.





	Divine Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you just need someone who will listen.

James was a no nonsense driver. He'd seen far too many fatal accidents to be cavalier about being behind the wheel. Tonight, however, was the exception.

 

It seemed almost impossible that he had been Inspector Lewis' sergeant for a year now. The time HAD actually flown as he was mentally stimulated by matching wits with his wily Governor who often saw the solution to a murder before anyone else.

 

Trouble was, his brain wasn't all that was stimulated of late. James had come to terms with being sexually "flexible" years ago, and comfortable with abstinence over promiscuity. There had been several men and one or two women, but generally he chose a good book and a fine whiskey as his bed partner of choice. 

 

Ever since Will though, when Lewis had shown himself to be a tolerant man, James had surrendered to his attraction to the older man. He tried pretending it was hero worship, a fleeting crush or even a mid-thirty something crisis on his part. Nothing could obscure the truth- he was arse over tits in love with his boss.

 

This morning he had finally been brave enough to ask Lewis to come to a performance of his band at 9pm. He knew it was a bit of a late night for the Inspector, but Lewis had seemed genuinely pleased. Seemed being the optimum word.

 

When the first of two sets was over, it was clear James' invitation had been rejected. As his band mates packed up, he tried to beg off a trip to the local, but eventually his loneliness won out. After far too many pints, he had staggered his way to his car and fallen into the drivers seat. "This is a bad idea", he thought as he turned the key and pulled into the street.

 

Nothing about this was remotely humorous, but James found himself consumed by giggles. He was amused that suddenly there was two of everything. Double sets of lines on the road, double street signs, even four sets of fingers on the wheel. He had four hands, how hilarious.

 

A blinding flash of lightning closely followed by a loud crash of thunder interrupted his revelry, only to have it reappear when huge slaps of rain began to pummel the wind screen. James ran through a muddy puddle throwing globs of muck onto the glass.

 

Once more he laughed wildly. The mess reminded him of his first attempt at fingerpainting at age 5, without the dirty hands. Hands, he still had four hands, curiouser and curiouser. Then, in a moment of clarity, he realized he needed the wipers on. The pretty wipers, all of them, back and forth, forth and back until...

 

The high pitched squeal of brakes and skidding tires was his first clue he had stopped. He'd stopped, why did he stop, he was flying along and... She stood in the road, a medium sized brunette in an unremarkable dress and sensible shoes. Bloody stupid woman walking in the road in a storm. He wondered if the woman who looked just like her at her side was a twin.

 

Even inebriated, James was a gentleman. Rolling down his window he slurred, "You cand be walleking in the rood like tha. Ge in n I'll take you home." Without a word she climbed in with a soft smile.

 

James squinted, "Wherd the other one go?"

 

Her eyes were gentle, her voice musical. "Just me James. Let's get you somewhere you can safely pull over."

 

"Got to take you home, my Governor woodnt have me leave you sommere else."

 

"Fine James, my home it is. Just a little ways up this lane. Good lad Sergeant. Park right here. Well done."

 

James felt her voice drape over him like a blanket. It was familiar somehow. The inflection, the accent, Geordie! That was it, she sounded like Lewis. He'd have to ask her. Strange though she didn't seem wet. It was pouring buckets, yet she was dry.

 

Where were his manners, "I'm James, ah Sergeant James Hathaway, but you knew that, mussa tol ya. James you're a silly bugger."

 

The woman reached over and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry a bit about that sweet boy, you need to rest."

 

"Haf ta get you inside. Take my jaket plees.. it's a flood."

 

"I'll be fine James. Just lean back and sleep. I don't reckon your Inspector would be too pleased to see the state you're in love."

 

Putting a finger to his lips he whispered, "Shh, it'd be my head if he knew."

 

"Our secret canny lad. Stay dry and let happy dreams hold you in their care."

 

He turned to answer and found himself alone. When had she left the car? His head was getting more fuzzy and his eyelids heavy. Whoever she was, she'd been right about one thing. Lewis would be more than pissed to discover he'd risked drunk driving. His last conscious thought was of Headmaster Lewis taking a cane to his favorite clever clogs student for being LESS than clever. That wasn't a cheerful thought, why then was he laughing?

 

***~~~***

 

His next conscious thought was, 'why didn't I close the damn window shade.' The light was too bright and far too early. As his eyes adjusted, he realized he was still in his car and he'd been awakened by the sunrise.

 

His legs and his bladder were screaming for relief. Glancing around he saw a solution in the form of a gnarled oak tree. Too desperate to be embarrassed, he bolted from the car unzipping as he went. Where the hell was he?

 

The answer was unsettling. Though he was parked on a clear level space, the car was surrounded by graves. It was a cemetery. How did he get... The woman, she'd brought him here. Her home she'd said. Trust him to pick up a..what? Lunatic, practical joker what?

 

His head was pounding and a quick check of his mobile showed no service, AND (he could hear his Governors lecture now) a completely dead battery. Bollocks! Well, nothing for it. Climbing back in the car he turned the key. It was dead as well.

 

Not bothering to curse under his breath, he stormed to the nearest group of headstones and kicked the ground. Slowly, recognition dawned. He'd been here before, that first day. His eyes scanned the names and there it was "VALERIE LEWIS." Shit!!

 

***~~~***

 

Robbie Lewis had passed aggravation and gone directly to worried. He'd felt terrible about missing James' band the night before, but the lad hadn't responded to the texts where he explained the gas leak at his flat, that required evacuation but staying nearby. So the man was unhappy with him, but this was the next day and he had missed the start of shift and still wasn't answering.

 

Finally, Lewis had gone to communication where he'd learned his sergeants mobile was dead, but the GPS in his car located him. Robbie paled, 'What in God's name was he doing THERE?'

 

Taking the day, by convincing Innocent the pair both had a virus, Robbie headed out. James would be livid at being "spied upon", well too bloody bad. He'd show James livid. 

 

James felt at once humiliated and comforted as he looked down at the grave. His mind flashed as he saw the dead flowers in the vase. He should have brought fresh flowers, she deserved... He shook his head at the ridiculousness of the thought. How could he have brought flowers to a place he never intended to come?

 

Not knowing what else to do, he began to talk. "Hello, Mrs.Lewis, it's James Hathaway, your husband's sergeant. May I sit down?" His nearly manic giggles returned. He'd just asked a piece of marble permission to sit down.

 

"We've, ah, met before. I was here with the Inspector when he first came back. I apologize for this visit, which I actually hadn't planned. I'm well and truly hung over, smell like a distillery and pray I don't get sick on the ground."

 

Still early, the cemetery grounds were silent save for singing birds, and James found he couldn't be quiet.

 

"Seems rude to unburden myself on you, but I've no one to talk to, no one to listen. To be blunt, I am, and forever will be, deeply in love with your husband. There I've said it, and you're the first to ever hear it. I can't talk at the nick, they'd separate us. Fancy telling my priest my gay romantic intentions, hardly. As for telling Robbie..."

 

"You don't ever call him that. He'd be chuffed if you did."

 

James would have jumped to his feet but he was too weak to manage. It was the woman from last night, now he recognized her it was... Leaning against the stone, he wiped his face with a dry palm. "Appears I'm hallucinating as well."

 

"If you are, then best get on with it posh boy." The voice was kind and very real.

 

"Right, not likely to be judged by a hallucination am I? As I was saying, as for telling Robbie how I feel, that's out of the question."

 

"Because you don't trust him, you think he's homophobic, you're afraid he'll beat you up?"

 

"I'm sorry, my imagination or not, no one talks about Inspector Lewis like that to me."

 

"Good on ya lad. Too right, he's a brilliant man, I should know. Here's the point where you need to ask my advice but won't because you are possibly the only man on earth more stubborn than our Robbie. So I won't bother waiting. Get off your educated Cambridge arse and tell him. He loves you as a friend now, and who are YOU Mister fancy suits, ties and socks to speak for him?"

 

"It's not that easy! Jesus Christ I'm arguing with an illusion."

 

"Go way man, even if that's true, it's the most sensible thing you've heard lately. Think I've nothing better to do than wet nurse my Robbie's whiny boyfriend through his latest existential crisis?"

 

"You even sound like him. Let's say I do tell him, what then?"

 

"Just a guess, you MIGHT be happy, but then young man, why risk actually getting what you want. Take your bottle, your book and your bed and build a wall around yourself, and when you're gone there won't even be dead flowers to mourn your passing."

 

***~~~***

 

For a second, James couldn't catch his breath, and his heart pounded in his chest. Lewis had never said his Val was cruel. "Why would you say..", once again she had vanished. He retched with the dry heaves, his eyes watering. "Oh God."

 

"James, James lad you all right? What are you doing here?"

 

"Sir, what are you, how did you find me?"

 

"You made it hard enough sergeant. The GPS on the car thank heaven, but don't think you're away from a tongue lashing over the state of your mobile, AND not answering me texts last night, all eight of them."

 

"Texts, I didn't.." His cheeks reddened, "I suppose my battery was dead even last night. Sorry Sir, and my car is dead as well."

 

"What did ye do clever clogs piss off the electronics Gods? Meanwhile, how is it you're here? This isn't anyways near your flat."

 

"Truthfully, Sir I don't know. Last I clearly remember I was leaving the local around 1am, and then there were these two woman in the road, well one I guess. I think I might have been seeing double. Then I woke up here at sunrise."

 

"Seeing double? Did you have an accident, hit your head?"

 

"Not exactly Sir. I might have over indulged."

 

"James Hathaway, are you telling me you drove drunk?"

 

"I might have done. Sir please, if you're going to shout, sit down. If I have to look up at you my stomach might not survive."

 

More relieved than angry, Lewis stomped to his car and returned with two bottles of water. "Drink these, now!" 

 

Doing as ordered, James was glad to have the firm bulk of his boss sit down on the ground beside him. James dared to lean against him and sighed. "It's been a nightmare Sir."

 

"Tell me canny lad. You know I won't judge, whatever this is. Ge on with ya James."

 

"Long story short Sir, I think your wife saved me from wrecking the car in a drunken stupor last night and led me here. Didn't know it was her then, but she came back this morning and gave me a right talking to about being honest with you. Even told me you'd be pleased if I called you Robbie. Now you know I'm not lucid Sir."

 

"Lucid James? Not bloody likely I'd know lucid if it bit me. But I would be more than proud to have you call me Robbie. You're not jus me sergeant ya know."

 

"That's what Val said. She told me to get off my arse and tell you I'm in love with you. Oh Sir, I didn't mean to say..forgive me I..."

 

Robbie's lips on his were tender but insistent and James groaned. "Took you long enough James, and you needed a visitation from my wife to convince you?" He caressed the smooth stone that bore her name, "Ta love, you always knew what was best for me."

 

James stammered, "It's all good then, you approve of me, of us, of.."

 

"I approve of most everything about my handsome, smart, loving boyfriend. Don't argue about that pet, too late to turn back. But I catch you driving drunk again there'll be hell to pay."

 

"No worries Sir, ah Robbie. This has cured me. Can't always count on alcohol induced visions being as friendly as your Val. But it WAS like she was here, and how I got here when I was driving the opposite direction, I can't explain."

 

Robbie pulled him to his feet and into a crushing hug. "Doesn't matter lad, long as you're safe and we've finally stopped being so damned stubborn."

 

"Val said I was the only man more stubborn than you, guess she was right. I regret there's no fresh flowers for her though."

 

"Haven't been here meself in a bit," Robbie said glancing at the faded brittle blossoms. "The flowers die too quick, next time we'll come together and bring some. Think she'd like that."

 

The air around them, which had been chilled with the damp of the heavy rain, suddenly turned breezy and warm. Robbie sighed, "Val loved a day like this. Oi, poncy lad, pick up those water bottles. Don't want to have to cite you for littering."

 

Flashing a bright luminous smile James turned toward the grave and stopped. His voice came out choked and tearful, "Robbie."

 

Alarmed by the tone, Robbie twined the long pale fingers in his own. "James?"

 

Without a word, the tall blond directed Robbie's eyes back to the stone. Where moments before the withered bouquet had rested, now in its' place were shoots of wild orchids. The same orchids that Robbie had placed on the grave a year ago when he had brought the man who was to be his future to meet the woman who had been his past. Divine intervention indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> Really loving someone means wanting them to be happy. I think Robbie and Val had that kind of love.


End file.
